


Your Hand in Mine

by DanganSwizzle



Category: A Way Out (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Holding Hands, Major Spoilers, Vincent "100 mistakes per hour" Moretti, can be read as either platonic or romantic, the ending of this game makes me cry every mcfucking time, you can't give a man a nickname like that and expect me not love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanganSwizzle/pseuds/DanganSwizzle
Summary: He knew, if hiss hand was in his own, then he was safe, and he was going to be fine.





	Your Hand in Mine

Leo knew, if Vincent’s hand was in his, then he was safe, and he was going to be fine.

It wasn’t exactly a connection he tried to make, but when your life is at risk time after time and that hand is the one thing keeping you from dying, it’s hard to not begin to see it as a safe-haven—and, to some extent, the owner of said hand, as well.

Ah, what the hell—there was no need to get ridiculous with it. He trusted Vincent, and it really was that simple. He knew Vincent was always going to be there with him, always make sure he was safe. And if Vincent’s hand is in his, then he knows he’s right there, making sure he’s okay.

Leo was trying, desperately, to go to sleep, his thoughts wondering all over the place. It was probably nerves. They had just managed to give the cops the slip, and Leo was far from relaxed right now. And hell, it wasn’t like this shitty car was at all comfortable.

“You still awake?” Vincent asked, interrupting Leo’s thought process.

“Yeah. Can’t sleep.”

“Well, you should. It’s late, and you’ll need some sleep if you want to keep going at this.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m trying, man, but having to deal with all those damn cops just freaked me out, I guess.”

“Hey,” Vincent placed his hand on top of Leo’s, “We’re going to be fine, alright? I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Leo processed this in silence, staring at the contact between them, “Yeah, alright.” After a brief moment of consideration, he muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

Vincent didn’t take his eyes from the road, but gave a short nod, “Yeah.”

Leo expected him to remove his hand and get it back on the wheel, but he ended up keeping it there. Leo turned his hand over in order to properly hold the other’s hand. Not long after, Leo was finally able to get to sleep.

 

Vincent knew, if Leo’s hand was in his, then he was safe, and he was going to be fine.

It wasn’t exactly a connection he tried to make, but when your life is at risk time after time and that hand is the one thing keeping you from dying, it’s hard to not begin to see it as a safe-haven—and, to some extent, the owner of said hand, as well.

Somehow, when he held it, it even kept Vincent from remembering how absolutely nothing was going right.

This plan had gotten completely off track. All he had to do was get Harvey’s location. He knew he had to gain Leo’s trust before he could do that, and if that meant breaking out of prison with him he would do that. Once they got the information from Ray on Harvey's location, he was supposed to send Leo back to prison, and he could work with all the other cops on the case.

But he didn’t end up doing that. In part, it was because he knew he wouldn’t be able to personally get his hands on Harvey. But there was also very much a part of him that just wasn’t ready to let Leo go just yet.

That was a mistake. This was all a mistake. He’s such a fucking idiot. What the hell was his problem, anyway?

He knew he was pushing it when he asked to be on the case. He knew it would have been better to let somebody else handle it. But what was he supposed to do? His brother died because of Harvey. Murdered. There was just no way Vincent could forgive that, and there was no way he wasn’t going to do something about it when the opportunity was right in front of him. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that this was probably a mistake. Having visited his wife only reaffirmed that. He had really been a shitty husband—and now he had the pleasure of knowing he was a shitty father, too. He’d been so focused on his job that he wasn’t ever able to be there for her. He wasn’t quite sure when his job had become so important that he couldn’t be there for his own wife, but looking back on everything now… It seemed damn cruel of him.

And then there was Leo. Vincent shook his head, as if that would do anything to clear things up for him and have everything magically make sense. Simply put, he wasn’t supposed to care about Leo. He was just supposed to be used for information and put back in prison.

In all his years on the force, it seemed that somewhere down the line, he had forgotten that criminals were people. Leo wasn’t some force of nature that showed up to steal whatever he could find and then rot in prison once he got caught. He was a father to a kid who liked to play basketball, and a husband to a woman he grew up with in an orphanage. He has the common sense of a glass jar and can’t go five feet up in the air without tightening his grip and making some comment about how he definitely wasn’t scared or anything. He somehow had the time to maintain those sideburns while in prison, and he was able to make a game out of something just about everywhere they went.

Simply put, he was human. And Vincent ended up caring very deeply about him.

Vincent sighed. If life was a balancing act, he had to be the clumsiest man alive. His home life was falling apart, his job was was in danger of the same thing, and the man he had grown to so deeply care about was eventually going to find out he had been lying to him this whole time, and he’d be lucky if he’d ever be willing to even speak to him again.

Vincent shook his head once more. He just didn’t have the time to be thinking about this stuff. He had to just keep pushing.

He glanced over to Leo, for just the briefest distraction—and as it turns out, he didn’t look very asleep at all, “You still awake?”

Leo looked over to him, in a bit of a daze, “Yeah. Can’t sleep.”

“Well, you should. It’s late, and you’ll need some sleep if you want to keep going at this.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m trying, man, but having to deal with all those damn cops just freaked me out, I guess.”

“Hey,” Without thinking, Vincent placed his hand on top of Leo’s own, “We’re going to be fine, alright? I’ll make sure you’re okay.” That was a bit of an empty promise. He knew there was nothing he could really do if he didn’t want to get arrested himself. The plan was pretty air-tight, too. But he still found himself saying it, even if it wasn’t all that true.

“Yeah, alright.” Leo responded, before adding a quiet, “Thanks.”

Vincent nodded, unable to look at the other man, “Yeah.”

After a brief moment, having almost forgotten he had left his hand on his, he felt Leo’s hand turn over, and return the squeeze he gave it. Vincent couldn’t find it in himself to let go.

For now, everything was fine. Leo was right there, and if his hand was in his, then he knew they were both fine.

 

Leo was damn certain he would hate Vincent for the rest of his life.

That motherfucker lied to him, used him, and now he has the audacity to try and calm him down with his empty fucking words. His head was filled with memories that had taken on a whole light. All of that time together, all of the shit they went through, all of the feelings and energy they had put into one another, it was all bullshit! Everything, everything was a damn lie!

That just sucks! It sucks! It sucks really fucking bad!

How could he even do that to him? How could he do that to somebody!? Leo was having a real hard time connecting everything that had happened in this past half-hour with everything that had come before.

No, there was no need to be ridiculous about it. He couldn’t connect the prisoner Vincent, who was always calm under pressure and would pretend he wasn’t having fun with the games he’d make him play, who drove like an absolute maniac and made up dangerous plans like it was nothing, who spent like five minutes checking to see if that old couple had a leather jacket anywhere and who seemed to know everything they had to do, to the cop Vincent, who was willing to use him to get what he wanted and then cast him aside.

But… But as he felt the world get grayer and grayer, he found it hard to hold onto any sort of anger. He looked up to see Vincent standing above him, and he couldn’t see Vincent the cop. All he could see was Vincent the prisoner. His friend.

Everything about this hurt. Breathing was becoming too hard, and even if he wasn’t hellbent on ending Vincent’s life anymore, he was still so emotionally raw. He couldn't believe this. He couldn’t believe any of this. But as he looked into Vincent’s eyes above him, filled with some emotion he didn’t have the presence of mind to try and place, he found that it didn’t matter.

There was so much left to say, and so many things he felt that he just doesn’t have time to communicate. Breathing was getting harder still. He didn’t know what his family was going to do without him. His boy would be without a father, and Linda would have to shoulder the weight of everything all on her own. He doesn’t know if they’ll be safe. Some part of him really wanted to cry right now, but he just wasn’t able to.

It was so damn hard to breath!

He couldn’t tell what Vincent was thinking. He could barely tell what he himself was thinking at this rate. But somehow, he knew to raise his hand up.

Vincent gripped his hand, and Leo smiled. The Vincent he knew was there now, and his hand was in his own, and he knew he was safe, and he knew everything was going to be fine.

 

Vincent squeezed Leo’s hand tightly, as if it was the last thing he had to hold on to. He almost wasn’t sure Leo would grab it, that he would knock it away as one last bitter way to get back at him. But he did, and he smiled up back at him. And for the briefest second, they were back in the car, or at the barn, or on the plane, or anywhere that wasn’t on top of this roof with a bullet in Leo’s chest. He was safe, and everything was going to be okay.

He felt Leo’s weak grip slip from his fingers, and suddenly his throat was burning his eyes were beginning to sting. Suddenly, it was the end. It was all over. He was dead. Leo was dead.

He sat by Leo, suddenly so unsure of everything. He grabbed his hand once more, but it was different now. His hand felt the same, as he had only been dead for mere moments. But so much of what it used to be was now just a hand. There was no safety, and nothing was okay.

He squeezed his hand tighter, even though it doesn’t help. He could have done something else. He could have shot his leg, or just thrown the gun over the roof to stop it, or do literally anything other than kill him.

He fucked everything up. Everything had fallen apart because of him. He messed up on every turn, and at the end of it all he ended up killing Leo.

He held on tighter to Leo’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Not to be over-dramatic or anything but I think this game is a masterpiece of the video game medium and I love it with all my heart. This fic was made because I have a lot of feelings about it. Thanks for reading, have a lovely day!


End file.
